


Times Are Hard For Dreamers

by Charlie Rotanev (Immerghensi)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angels, Champions, Engineers, Feels, Fluff, Help, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, all the feels, medics, scavengers, trigger warning, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immerghensi/pseuds/Charlie%20Rotanev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a match made in heaven, a chance encounter between two fairytale creatures made to love one another.<br/>-or-<br/>Ashton has a few problems and Luke might just be the solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

“Check his vitals!”

 

“Pulse is erratic, breathing obstructed.”

 

“Get the bag!”

 

“No, get the paddles!”

 

“Give me 500ml!”

 

“Stitches here!”

 

“Hold on, son, we’re gonna get you through this you’ll be just fine.”

His eyelids grow heavy as the anesthesia runs through him, sending him off to a dreamless sleep.


	2. Act One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING?!?!?!

He started the shower around four in the afternoon, the warm water running down his aching back and tensed shoulders. Today had gone horribly.

Not like basically every other day wasn’t bad and the others worse, but it had been particularly troublesome.

It was the kind of troublesome that started with ‘b’ and ended in ‘lies’. It used to be alright, just some prods and poking about his thick-rimmed glasses and his hands wrapped up in the long ends of his shirt even when it was 80 degrees out and everyone else had on t-shirts like _normal people_ , but today they’d poked and prodded him and instead of making fun of the striped knit shirt he’d worn to the first day of the summer equinox, someone said, “Why are you so fat?”

And he lost it.

It was a long walk home from his last period. There wasn’t anything in his locker anymore since they’d hired some highly proficient thief to steal just about everything important he had. Ashton trudged home in the blazing heat under his mop of sweat-damp hair. He said a quick ‘hello’ to his siblings and his mother before walking at a clip in a beeline for his room. Once inside, he slipped off his pack and slumped against his bed. He let out a silent scream that emptied his lungs while leaving the other residents of the house blissfully unaware.

Ashton needed this alone time with just the water running and his own thoughts. He held the razors scavenged from old shavers and art supplies in his mother’s cabinet in his trembling hands, unable to decide whether or not now was the time. He had the ability, but did he truly have the will? Surely if he did it right then and there, no one would miss him. The torment would finally be over. All he had was his tiny little family and the aunts and uncles way out in the middle of nowhere. But he would feel guilty if he left without warning, almost like a runaway. He would have to leave notes, some sort of token that said ‘I appreciate what you have done for me, but it is time to start fresh.’

The water had been running for a while. If he was going to do it, he’d have to do it now before his mother came knocking. He couldn’t have her interrupt this.

-

It’s another night of licking his wounds and not coming down for dinner. He’s too ashamed of what he’s done and he isn’t quite ready to forgive the world for being so cruel, so he puts it off. This is how most of his days go, and as comforting as the routine is for him he knows it’s just pathetic how he can’t cope with the smallest thing. Three years of dealing with these assholes should’ve taught him a thing or two on how to brush off the comments, but dammit they hurt so much more than any of the scars he has. They hurt him right where they know it stings, like striking at an Achilles heel. They keep bringing up the same old problems and reopening the same old wounds, never leaving enough time for him them to ever close completely.

-

Ashton always sits alone in the same place every single day while Malcolm Gate's jocks and bullies sit at their tables in the middle of the room. That’s just the way it’s been and he supposes that that’s the way it will always be. It’s a bit different today though; just a little. Today there’s a new addition to the torture squad. They call him Luke. He’s already seated amongst the highest in the tiers. It makes Ashton sick how people just naturally gravitate towards Mal when he’d such a horrible person. He’d stopped getting his hopes up when he noticed time after time transfers getting pulled in the Squad. Tossing the rest of his food, he leaves before he can throw up the rest of it at the sight of them.

It takes him about thirty seconds of walking down the side corridor to recognize the sounds of a large number of people walking behind him. He stops briefly at one of the giant windows to pretend to check his phone, hoping that they aren’t after him; only passing by. But it’s a laugh and a scuffle and he’s being knocked to the ground, a body on top of him. He’s lost his thick-rimmed Clark Kent glasses and the weight of his bag and the person might just splinter his ribs.

 

“Oh my gosh, are you ok?” Ashton is only partially blinded as he scrambles around for his glasses. He has to get out here as soon as possible before anyone else sees him.

 

“What the hell, Irwin?” says one of the leaders. The rest of the rat pack snicker in the background, slowly encircling him. They’re going to suffocate him if he doesn’t get out soon.

 

“It’s not his fault- I fell onto him. Sorry about that.” The voice he doesn’t recognize-Luke, it must be- sounds oblivious of the cruelty these kids he’s friends with can dispense. What a moron. “Here- I think these are yours.”

 

“Thanks.” he mutters, eyes darting across the small crowd of the resident bully’s loyal followers. They have wicked grins and plotting features all aimed at him.

 

“I’m Luke! I’m new.” The blonde guy sticks his hand out. He reminds Ash vaguely of an overexcited puppy. A cute, giant, golden, overexcited puppy.

 

“I am quite aware, don’t you worry. My name is Ashton.”

 

“Ash? That’s a cool name. It’s nice to meet you!”

 

“I think it’s too soon to say that.” Ash chances a look at the people behind Luke who are three seconds away from turning him into a human pincushion.

 

“Ew, come on Luke- let’s go. Don’t want to get caught talking to this loser.” Said one of the informants of the group, Jesse, who usually hung around the middle of the cluster next to one of the heavy hitters.

 

“Well that’s a little rude, huh?” Luke brushed off the comment and put his hands in the deep pockets of his hoodie.

 

“Whatever, let’s just go.” said one of the punky girls, Nora. The new boy turned to Ash and waved bye with a big smile on his face.

 

“I’ll see you around!”

 

Ash waved back once. “No, you won’t.”

-

“Hey! Ash, right?” He’d tried to slip out undetected, but apparently that wasn’t on the agenda for today. “What’s up? Sorry about yesterday.”

 

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Ash says as bluntly as possible. He cannot, will not, definitely won’t get involved with one of Mal’s guys. Not even as acquaintances. Some of the other outcasts were telling him how ruthless these guys were when it came to associating with anyone. If they weren’t with Mal, they were out and that meant being a target. Ashton had accepted this years ago, when he came as a freshman and gotten thrown to the wolves. He’d never been given the chance to buddy up with Malcolm. Not that he wanted to, of course.

“No, really. I don’t know what’s up with those guys, but they were pretty rude to you-”

 

“Yeah, what else is new?” He growled. He glances off to the sides to see if there’s anyone watching. Luckily, there are only two other people in the Dungeon getting their stuff to escape to the weekend.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to strike a nerve.” Giant Golden Puppy Boy puts his hands up in a ‘don’t shoot me’ manner.

 

“Stop saying sorry all the time. Mal hates that. If you’re going to be one of them there isn’t much of a learning curve so get on it. Or else you’ll end up on our side of the barbed wire fence.” Ashton slams his locker closed with more force than necessary and starts walking, hoping that Luke will take the hint. He does not.

“I take it you don’t like him?"

 

“I couldn’t care less about what he does, but it doesn’t matter what I think. I’m no one. No one ever pays attention to the outcasts.”

 

“Is that what you are? One of the outcasts?”

 

“You sure have a lot of questions.”

 

“My old school was never like this. We were all one big 300-person family. No cliques, just a bunch of stupid high school kids being stupid high school kids together. This is all really new to me.”

 

“Ha! Give me the name of where you went, I’d love to be there. But at this rate, it would be more work than it’s worth. Gotta go to uni soon. No use in switching out of this hell hole.”

 

“That’s a little cynical, I think.”

 

“What’s there to be happy about?”

 

“A lot!! There’s a lot to be happy about. It’s a nice day out, the birds are chirping, it’s the weekend…”

 

“We live in the middle of nowhere, the school is built on a rigid caste system, at least a third of us are being bullied every day, another fourth have mental disorders straight out of the book, and now I’m talking to you.”

 

“What’s wrong with that?”

 

“You are one of them. We aren’t supposed to know each other. We aren’t supposed to talk. EVER. If someone sees you with me being anything other than an asshole, you’re going to have to answer to someone higher on the chain and it’ll be a miracle if I don’t get shoved down a flight of stairs on Monday.”

 

“Well I don’t understand why that is, but I like you. I think you’re a pretty great person.”

 

“That’s nice. I couldn’t hate myself any more than I already do.”

-

Thankfully, the Golden Puppy Luke doesn’t bother Ash for the next three days after the weekend. It’s the fourth that really trips him up.

He’s on the way to lunch and he can see the beginning of the group. Not only is it Mal and the rest of the crew, but he’s got a slew of girls on the periphery and Ash’s secret ex- Nick- in the midst of the huddle. Someone told Mal about their little four month escapade and now her taunts Ash right where it hurts whenever he can. That’s one of the bigger reasons he hates everything. Ashton makes a break for it when they’re still far away, taking the path through the band storage room to get to the hall behind them. He can skip lunch. He can go another day without getting bullied. They won’t expect him there and he can get away without-

 

“Well, well, well, look it here- little Ash is trying to leave before the party’s even started.”

 

“What do you want, Mal?” He growls back.

_Sophomore year, some night in April, a boy comes up to Ashton and says,_

 

_“Hey there, my name is Nick. What’s yours?”_

 

_“Ashton.”_

 

_“Ashton…” he says, the music blocking out the actual sound of his words, “Honestly, you’re pretty cute. Wanna dance?”_

 

“Aw, what happened to the fun little Ash? The dancing queen? Honestly you used to be pretty cute.”

 

“You know the story, you know the tale. It’s the same song, different chorus and we’ve heard it all before.”

 

_“I would love to!” he yells back, and before his alcohol-riddled brain can made a rational choice he’s moving in ways he didn’t know were possible against this boy he literally just met. He wakes up sore the next morning with Nick in a bed that isn’t his. When he manages to roll out from under the covers, he notices that he’s naked and then he’s on the floor searching for his things in a panic._

 

“I suppose so. Why don’t you come with us? You know how much we like a little…. fun.” Malcolm draws out the last word, getting right into Ashton’s face.

 

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. There are better things to do.” he readjusts his backpack and makes like he's going to leave in the hopes that suffering will take pity on him and let him go.

 

“Leaving so soon?” He laughs. “I don’t think so.” He has no such luck. The heavy hitters know the drill. In an instant they’re surrounding Ash. One of them pushes him to the ground and tries to kick his pack.

 

_“Hey, leaving so soon?” Nick says. He’s leaning over the edge of the bed that Ash had been on, looming over him._

 

“What have you got in there?”

 

“Leave me alone, Mal, or I’ll get the principal.”

 

“Oooooohh so scary! You’ve got me scared straight.” he says, waving his hands.

 

“You remember last time, don’t you?”

 

_“I’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”_

 

_“Are you straight?”_

 

_“No, but-”_

 

_“Ok phew. You had me scared there for a second.”_

 

_“No, I’m 100% gay. I just didn’t expect… well, whatever happened last night to happen at all.”_

 

_“You’ve never hooked up?”_

 

_“I’ve never had a one night stand before.”_

 

_“Who said this has to be a one night stand?”_

 

_“Oh come on, sweetcheeks, don’t be like that.” Ashton glares at the boy talking down to him. He stops trying to get his skinny jeans back on in exchange for looking up at the boy above him._

 

_“What?”_

 

_“You’re pretty cool. And you’re gorgeous. Here, let me give you my number.”_

 

_“Wow, thanks…. this is really surreal.”_

 

_“Anytime, sweet cheeks.” Ashton giggles at the pet name. He’s not sure whether or not to be disgusted or find it adorable, so he doesn’t say anything._

 

_“I’ve got to get home. I’ll text you though!”_

 

_“Aw, alright. I’ll see you at school. “_

 

"So, what secrets do you have in there today, hm?”

 

“Mind your own biscuits, Malcolm.”

 

“Ooh, pulling out the full names are we? Haven’t had that for… what, four months? You’re getting old at this, Ashy.”

_They start dating three weeks later, and it’s the best Ashton has ever felt. He hasn’t cut for two weeks and waking up isn’t nearly as hard now that he has someone to wake for. His world comes crumbling down like a tower in an earthquake four months later. Nick admits that Mal put him up to it as a dare to see how far he could get. He almost faints, leaning against the wall of the basement floor boy’s bathroom for support. No one goes down there because they think it’s haunted._

One of the bigger guys off to the side gets a hand on his pack and he tries to pull it out from under him, but Ash lashes out with his heel and delivers a hard kick to the shin.

 

“Good grief, you’re really something, you little bitch.”

_With the amount of grief he has, it might just become that._

Ashton closes his eyes and curls around his pack, waiting for the real torment to begin. His eyes are squeezed shut and all of a sudden there are hands all over him and all he can do is wait for it to be over.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ! Knock it off, Mal!” says a voice from the back. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but that’s pretty insensitive from where I’m standing. And all of you, get the fuck off of him!”

 

"Luke...?" The jock guys stop beating on Ash to listen to him.

 

“Maybe you should come get a better look, Luke, just a little harmless fun. Nothing more, nothing less.” He sneers back.

 

“Maybe you should stop being such an asshole and leave him alone.”

 

“Do you want to fight about this, Hemmings? Really?” Ashton is still on the ground hovering over his pack, but he can see the mass of followers parting to let Luke through. The heavies are gone, fading into the mass. Mal stands his ground, but Luke stands several inches above and has all of his upper body flexed and ready to punch. He’s terrifying force of nature and for once, it’s ok to have someone who’s that scary around.

  
“Do you not? Because from what I’ve seen, all you do is terrorize people who haven’t done anything except exist peacefully, and you do it just for fun. So yeah- if you want to get into a fist fight over this I'd be happy to bet you down.”

 

“Y'know what? I'm over it. Enjoy social purgatory, loser. Come on guys, let’s go.” The rest of the horde trudge out of the gym circle and disappear into the next hall. Luke watches to make sure they’re completely gone before kneeling to help pick Ash up. He turns the bag right side up and places it next to him.

 

“Are you alright? I didn’t realize that’s why you talked about them the way you did.”

 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Ashton says quietly. He picks up his bag and wipes the dirt off his face.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Now they’ll bother you like they bother me.”

 

“Who cares, at least I won’t be associated with their antics. Now come on- let’s go get food I’m starving.”

 

“I don’t understand, why would you leave the invulnerable popularity circle? Do you know what you’ve done?”

 

“Sure I do. They were bothering you all the time and I didn’t like that, so I said so. They don’t like what I say that’s their problem. Simple as that.”

 

“No, you just wasted an opportunity over me. You don’t want what I have. You should’ve stood down, stayed with Mal.”

 

“Forget them!” Luke laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges. “You’re more real than all of them. Who needs those assholes anyway. And now we can be friends since no one will try to stop us.”

It confuses him how Luke is so optimistic. He’s got this little light in him that burns no matter what, and Ashton can feel the icy exterior of his heart slowly melting.

 

“Friends…. I think I’d like that.”

-

It’s been about three weeks since they officially became friends, and a lot has changed. For one, he and Luke don’t shut up to each other. Luke is a year younger, but somehow he’s more mature than Ashton and their senses of humor just go together. Luke trying to graduate early so he’s in some of the same senior classes Ash is being forced to take. Since they spend so much time together, it was only natural that he would get close to Luke’s close friends from the Music Club, Calum and Michael.

(“They’re a couple.” Luke said.

 

“Oh cool.” Ashton replied.

“Is…. are you ok with that?”

“With what?”

 

“Them being… y’know… together?”

 

“You mean gay?” Luke nods. “Luke, I’m gay too. Of course it’s ok.”

 

“You are?!”

 

“Yes, Luke, I like boys.”

 

“Great. Well that worked out well enough.”)

They spend most of their free time together, playing video games as Michael’s or practicing in Calum’s garage. As soon as they learned Ash could play the drums, they immediately took to him and the dynamic trio evolved into the dynamic quartet.

-

“Hey what are you doing this weekend?”

 

“Nothing much. Just sitting in my room. Alone. Watching Netflix. The literal definition of Netflix and chill. The works.” Ashton shrugs. The teacher shushes them from across the room.

 

“D’wanna hang?”

 

“Your place or mine?”

 

“You can come check out my place, I guess, meet the other people in the house if you’re lucky.”

 

“If I’m lucky?”

 

“They aren’t there a lot of the time. Mom and dad are at work all the time or they’re taking Harry and Lauren to their after school stuff.It’s a never ending thing. We have one car too, so it’s not like I can help or anything.”

 

“I got Jack’s old car before he moved to another country for work. Mom lets me take it, but only sometimes. She’s worried I’m going to crash or do something stupid.”

 

“Well yeah, you _are_ you.” Luke lightly punches him in the shoulder, his face scrunched up into a teasing grimace.

 

“Mean.” Ashton leans towards him and sticks his tongue out in a taunting fashion. Luke just puts his hand out and pushes his face away.

 

“Shhhhhhh just let it happen.” he whispers.

 

“Senpai, notice meeeee.” Ashton hisses back, and the jolly golden-haired giant lets out a barking laugh, much to the teacher’s chagrin. They get separated, but still text under the desk.

It’s going to be one great fucking year.

-

After that first meeting and the ‘Where the hell did Luke go this time’ incident, Luke practically lives at Ash’s and Ash has some of his things at Luke’s. It’s getting colder out, past the gray sky period and moving into snowstorm and sick season, and today they’re going to go outside before they get holed up for the next few months. It took only an instant, only a look, and Ashton relapsed. He had been doing so well, he was so happy! Why had it gone so badly? Why did nothing ever turn out like it should? There is a sandstorm of cruel words swirling in his brain and all of them shout for him to cut. Do it. You’ll feel better once you do it. It doesn’t even matter no one cares about you. Take the blade and cut, I dare you. Tear the fucking house down. After twenty minutes of being hunched over with his arms over his head like a 50’s kid doing the air raid safety drill, he ends up huddled in the bathroom with his little black box full of old razors and other nasty things making a masterpiece in blood on the inside of his arm and the tops of hs thighs. There’s still some time to get all his self-hatred out; cut all of the parts he hates out of himself before Luke gets here. He can clean himself up and be on his merry way.

 

“Ash, you’ve been in there forever!” Instantly, Ashton is frozen in his spot, the blade only halfway through its track.

 

_oh no._

_oh no._

_no no no no_

_no no no no_

_no no no no nO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO_

“Luke?! How did you get in here?!” “Your mom let me in! She gave me cookies too! I love that woman she’s so weird.”

_Oh god there is blood everywhere and his eyes are bloodshot from crying and there is no telling how many marks he’s made under the mess of newly raised skin and old scars but now Luke is here he has to make it like he was never here he was never here this never happened_

Above the confusion and messy attempt to clean up the bathroom, one phrase screams above the rest.

**THERE IS NO TIME.**

“Yeah, yeah, just…. give me a minute.”

 

“Sure, take your time. You’ve got some pretty cool posters in here.”

 

“Don’t touch anything, you hear me?!” he says, trying to feign like he hasn’t been ruining his own body. There’s only the sound of rushing water when Luke yells from the other side,

 

“This stuffed animal dog is really cute!”

 

“DON’T YOU DARE MESS WITH MR. NOODLE OR I WILL END YOU.” Luke is quiet after that. Probably dying of laughter. Ashton throws the bottom cabinet under the sink open, pulling out the bin with all of his aftercare things. He puts band-aids on what he can and wraps up the rest in gauze and tape and sprain bandages before pulling the faded gray and blue long sleeve back over his head. Ashton puts a hand on the knob and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself.

_You’re normal. You’re ok. You’ll be just fine. Just walk it off. Play your part._

“Showtime.”

-

At sunset they walk back to the house. It’s too cold at night for them anymore. They’re sitting on the couch downstairs watching a shitty movie eating ice cream when it happens.

 

“Are you kidding me?! Vanilla is _clearly_ superior to chocolate.” Ash looks at him in horror.

 

“Blasphemy! How could you say such things? I’m hurt.” Luke clutches his heart dramatically, spinning in a circle with his hand at his forehead like a fainting diva.

 

“Because I’m right.”

 

“Those are fighting words.”

 

“Bite me.” He leans in forward to click his teeth in Luke’s face for emphasis. Luke pushed him away by the arm, and they laugh.

 

“Oh shit, Ash, what the fuck?” Luke jerks back, scared for his life of something. Ashton looks around before realizing that Luke has just found a patch of blood soaking through his shirt. He instinctively jerks his arm back and leans so that if there are any new spots forming Luke definitely won’t be able to see them.

 

“What- oh, it’s nothing just leave it.”

 

“Are you sure? Lemme take a look at it. I did a natural medicine course once.”

 

“Oh so you’re one of those weird hippie people on the down low?” he says, trying to pin the focus anywhere but on him.

 

“I said _once_. Now let me see it.”

 

“Really, no, it’s fine Luke you don’t have to.”

 

“But I want to! Let me help you.”

 

“No!”

 

“Ash!”

 

“LUKE, DROP IT.” There’s a moment of silence that seems louder after the outburst.

 

“Ash, are you ok?” Luke asks, careful with his tone. He’s psychologically walking on glass; unsure of how his friend will react. His hand twitches, debating reaching out and taking Ash's hand.

 

“Honestly? No, not really.” Ashton makes a mad dash for his room and slams the door. He can’t let Luke get too close. Actually, he can’t let Luke get any closer than he already has. Somehow after years of meeting people and making some friends, he hasn’t gotten as comfortable as he has with Luke.

_This needs to stop._

He couldn’t let Luke know about all of his problems. He’d scare the poor sod off and then where would they be?

 

“Ash? Ash, I’m sorry for whatever I did. I didn’t mean it.” Luke says. He’d right outside and then all of sudden the door is rattling and Luke must be mirroring Ashton’s position, the two of them leaning back to back on opposite sides of the door. “I’m gonna go right now. If you need anything, just call me or text me or anything, ok? I’ll see you Monday.”

It hurts.

Everything hurts inside.

Because he does need Luke and he needs him _now_. He opens the door a pinch and Luke is at the top of the steps looking down.

 

“Luke?” He calls. His voice is higher, like a child’s. It happens at times like this, when he’s vulnerable and riding the emotional rollercoaster. “Could you um…. come back…?” Luke’s face goes from sad to confused to delighted in a matter of milliseconds.

 

“Yeah! I mean, yeah, sure, of course I will. What do you need?”

 

“Just some company. It’s lonely here. It’s always dark and you’re like...basically the sun.”

 

“Company? Sure, I can do that.” Ashton fits into Luke’s side like pieces to a puzzle, his head leaning on Luke’s broad shoulder and Luke’s arm wrapped around Ash’s waist as they lay against the wall right outside his door. “So do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

 

“That’s alright.”

-

Luke decides at some point or another that it’s gotten too quiet, so he puts on some soft tones; the Paper Kites, Bon Iver, the works. It helps to calm Ashton down enough to get him to talk.

 

“I think it’s time. “ he says.

 

“Just talk it out. I’m here to help, you know.” Luke puts his arms on his knees and rest his head on top. Although he’s saddened by whole ordeal, he’s still got that spark of happiness, and that gives Ashton the confidence to say,

 

“I think it’ll be easier to just show you.”

 

“Oh, no, Ash, you don’t have to anything you don’t feel-” Ashton puts out his hand to stop Luke from talking

 

“No.” He says firmly, “No, you deserve to know.”

He pulls Luke in tow towards the connecting bathrooms, picking up his little white and red medical box and locking the doors on both sides.

 

“I don’t think anyone has seen me like this.” he says, overwhelmingly saddened by the fact that he’s admitting defeat to the self-harm gods but relieved that there was at least one more person who knew his story. He carefully takes off the right side of his shirt then stretches the left side of the fabric over the sore area. The bandages have held up pretty well except for a few spots which have pooled and have begun spreading further (like the one that stained his shirt). He never bothered to check how deep they were, only that they drew blood and that it got his mind off of whatever he was thinking about. He’s so used to the pain that when he begins unwinding, Luke cringes.

 

“Oh my god you’re gonna be in more pain than you already are. Let me help you.”

 

“I don’t need-” but as soon as Luke’s hands are on him, he shuts up. There’s a certain care that Luke takes that Ash has never used for himself. He acknowledges the pain of repairing his skin but never focuses on it, instead noticing the reasons why he was there in the first place. With Luke though… His eyes go wide as the last of the gauze padding comes off, the neat lines still forming scabs. He inhales sharply, then breathes,

 

“What happened to you?”

 

“It’s a long story.”

 

“We have time.”

 

“It’s just a little problem that looks a lot worse than it really is. It’s nothing.”

 

“Angel, this is a bigger deal than you think it is.” He’s quiet for a moment before moving over to the same side Luke is on. He wraps the other boy’s arm around his shoulder and uses it like an emotional crutch.

 

“I know.” Ashton whispers, “But let me pretend for just a little longer.”

He lets it go; the other boy will tell him when he’s ready. Luke goes down to ask Anne Marie if he can spend the night, and she agrees, of course, since Luke is practically her third son. He runs back up the stairs so he can spend as much time as he can with Ash. Ashton eventually falls asleep to the sound of Luke’s voice, telling him stories about the stupid things he’d done as a child. Luke doesn't fall asleep for a while, the revelations of the day replaying over and over in the back of his eyes.

-

It’s the next week and Luke is waiting outside for Ash’s class to let out. He’s engrossed in whatever he’s looking at, scrolling around on his phone.

 

“How long have you been waiting?” He yawns. The new bandages have held up spectacularly, thank goodness. After that night, Luke rebandaged him with some household stuff and very specific instructions on how to care for himself.

 

“Long enough. Just been doing some digging.”

 

“Digging? For what?” Ashton swings himself out of the bustle of traffic of students trying to get on with their days.

 

“I have a challenge for you to accept.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Not telling until you accept!”

 

“How can I agree to something if I don’t know what they hell you want me to do? For all I know you could ask me to run down the street in a long white dress, a tiara, and carry a pumpkin and Mr. Noodle yelling, ‘I’m Cinderella and I’m late to the ball’.”

 

“....”

 

“...”

 

“I see your point. But it’s not that!”

 

“Then what?”

 

“It’s about the um… the thing that happened while I was at your house.” Luke pulls out at least ten different colors of sharpie from the side pocket on his pack. He holds them up by his face and wiggles his eyebrows.

 

“Have you ever heard of the Butterfly Project?”

 

“No. It sounds ridiculous.”

 

“Shush, and let me explain before you judge.” Before the sandy-haired boy can object, Luke is grabbing his arm and pushing the sleeve up just to where the first clump of scars are. He has a bright bracelet to distract everyone else from the raised scars, but Luke knows better. “Draw a bunch of butterflies on you and name them after people you love. Draw more when you feel like hurting yourself. All those butterflies die if you cut or if you try to die.” He starts making little black lines that Ashton assumes will become the bodies, then fills around them with four circles four wings. 

 

“Who are those?”

 

“Your mom, your dad, Harry, and Lauren.” Luke points to them in order; orange, cyan, forest green, and red.

 

“Alright... so how do I win the challenge?”

 

“You stay alive.” Luke slaps the markers into Ashton’s hands and claps him on the shoulder before walking off to his own class. It’s the first gift he’s gotten from someone other than his family. When he gets home, Ashton keeps all the markers in the wooden box next to his computer for safe keeping. Before locking them away, he takes out a navy blue sharpie and draws a swallowtail butterfly on his left knee.

He names it Luke.

-

He does really well for a while, the butterflies reminding him of the little motivational speech and the lack of really horrible things keeping the feelings at bay. He's spending more time finding out that there is, in fact, life outside his apartment. Calum and Michael don't know about Ash's issues and Luke makes sure that they don't at Ash's request. (Luke asks if he can borrow the guitar in Ash's room. If Ash ever says 'yes', he can talk about the issues if they come to a head.) (So far it's all be no, though.)

 

Then it happened. 

 

It wasn't a bad day, per say; just the culmination of trying to find a new normal and not knowing what it was in time. It was jut a quick little quip and Mal had damaged Ash's perception of Luke, his perception of every person he would date ever. 

Basically every human on the planet. 

Luke hadn't been there to tell him everything would be ok or to offer his golden tongue, and it had sent Ashton over the edge. He hadn't even bothered to tell his mother 'hello' or text back any number of the twelve messages he'd received from the combination of Luke, Calum, and Mike. 

He got into the shower with all of his blades after drawing what looked like a million butterflies spanning his arms and his stomach. 

 _So many options, so little time._ Said the voice of twisted reason who reminded him why it was he cut and why he shouldn't stop. 

Ashton listened to the voice without hesitation.

He was halfway through the Butterfly Massacre of 2015 when Luke stormed into the bedroom, tore the bathroom door off its hinges, and jumped into the shower fully clothed. Ashton dropped everything and screamed. Luke responded by closing the shower door and sitting under the stream of water, picking up the blades and things he didn't know the names of and putting them back in the wretched box. Ashton put his knees up and buried his face in his hands. 

"Promise me that you won't kill yourself- that you'll stay alive? Not for me, but for yourself."

 

"I don't want to die. I just want to feel."

 

Luke was silent, unsure of how to answer without encouraging Ashton to keep hurting.

 

"If feeling is what you want, you don't need to do it like this." he said, "But you'll stay alive, promise?"

 

"I promise."

-

There's something growing in his stomach. It's light and happy and it feels like he's a molten rainbow, and he loves it and is scared of it all at the same time. He's confused and a little worried, but mostly amused.

He's never had this one before.

It happens mostly when he's hanging out with the band or they're all piled up on the couch or in Old Betty Jo (the name they've given Luke's car since the rest of them are still carless), or even when they're in school. Mostly it's around Luke. When Luke makes a joke tailored for Ash's sense of humor or he teases him a friendly sort of way; that's when. 

It's been so long, but it's come back. 

That feeling called 'crush'. 

Of course, Ashton has to hide it. He can't start developing a crush on his own friend! Was Luke even gay? He had girls talking to him all the time and some guys who might've liked him too, but did that equate to anything? He couldn't tell and he wouldn't dream of risking their friendship. 

So he waited. 

He waited for the butterflies to leave his stomach and get back on his arms where he could properly attack them if he needed to. Sometimes he would make small cuts, just enough to get one of them, because surely that wouldn't count and he could get away with a little self-soothing? 

Luke plots down next to Ash and pulls him in for a side hug. The butterflies erupt in a storm of nerves and heat.

He feels like he's doing something legitimately wrong, but he likes the feeling so much that maybe, just maybe he could handle it.

Maybe Luke can help him get closer to fine.

-

“Do you like me?” Luke asks one night. They’re playing FIFA in Luke’s room, Ben blasting his music in the next room and Liz downstairs making dinner for her family, which now extends to Ashton.

 

“Sure I do, you’re a great person. You’re nice but you’re honest and you’re weirdness goes along with my weirdness, so I guess I like having someone to be weird with. And I mean, you and Cal and Mikey are basically my only friends.”

 

“I didn’t mean like that.” Ashton lets the timer on the screen run out, not looking up from his controller. He knew the question would come up, but he still hadn’t prepared an adequate response. There was no telling what he felt. The only thing he’d really felt for the past three years was anger and shame and guilt and fear and a profound and utter sadness. Nothing like what Luke had offered him in only a few short months.

 

“I….” He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but what was he to do? “I don’t know.”

No response.

Ash looked up to find Luke’s brow furrowed and his head tilted to one side.

 

“Well, not that I don’t know… it’s like…..” he took a deep breath in, shedding just a little bit of the anxiety. “It’s like… I know that I like you as a friend and you’ve been so helpful to me and so kind to me, and so I like you like more of a friend, but I don’t know if I love you like a boyfriend should.”

 

Luke looks a bit relieved, much to Ash's surprise. He's about to say something when the other boy opens his mouth. 

“It’s not about who you are as a partner or even what you love like.” Luke said, “It’s about giving your love and receiving love in return. It’s being loyal to your own extent, not what other people tell you. You love or you like or you do what you do, but when you love you love with all of it. And if you would be mine, then I promise you-my loyalty knows no bounds, no resistance. It asks for nothing more in return and gives all it has.”

The words hit him in the heartstrings and pull at the cavern in the hollow of his chest. His heart was about to explode and he wasn’t sure if it was the nervousness or his mind telling him that this was right, but he just felt safe and loved and real. It was all so much. It was all he’d ever wanted. It was all he’d ever dreamed.

 

“Like, not love?” he asks, careful with his tone.

 

“If that’s what it is, I’ll take it.” Luke beams back. Ashton doesn’t respond with words; only a chaste kiss and the knowledge that Luke is the one he belongs with.

-

Luke announces an impromptu date-thing at the end of winter break, around February. They’ve taken everything at Ashton’s pace; Luke making sure that he’s comfortable and isn’t just saying he’s alright. A month ago he’d found the pink butterfly with ‘Michael’ written under it with a new open wound across it and an red-eyed Ashton hiding out in the back of the auditorium. He’d looked at Luke with fear, like Luke would yell at him for failing, but instead he got down on his knees and held Ashton close on his lap until he was strong enough to stand on his own.

The house is relatively noisy- Lauren’s club soccer team is having a little get together thing and they’re holding the whole downstairs hostage. Ash hasn’t been down there since he got home, instead choosing to play his decisively non-kid-friendly music in his room with the door closed.

_He’s going on a date._

_With Luke._

_Oh Jesus._

He chooses what he knows Luke will like; the black skinny jeans and lumberjack-style flannel (“It’s so cute on you, Ash- you have those sweater paw things. I could just wrap you up.”) and one of Luke's beanies that he left at his house. He does a couple of once-overs in the mirror and decides that he isn't going to clean up any better than he has not, so he might as well just leave it. There are five evenly-timed knocks at the door; Luke's signature.

 

“Evening, gorgeous.” He says as Ashton welcomes him in, handing him one of those teddybears that should be holding a gift card or chocolate but instead has a blank CD with a bunch of squiggles on it signifying track names and artists. It’s sweet and personal and he can’t help but smile.

 

“You spoil me.” Ashton teases.

 

“You’re worth it.” Luke steps inside so he can tell Ash’s mom that he’s kidnapping her son temporarily and that they’ll be back (using the terminator voice). He offers his arm like a true gentleman and they drive off.

The feeling is a sort of magical that he shouldn’t believe in at his age and should’ve grown out of when he realized the world didn’t run on kindness and happiness. They’re two free spirits on the open road and Ashton hasn’t felt this alive in years and he realizes that this is who he is- just a wild child with the rest of the four and that's his place in time. He's an outcast in school, sure, but at least now he knows who is he is. Luke opens all of the windows and the sunroof, and Ashton uses the console between the passenger and driver's seats to stand up. He opens his arms to the wind like he's on the Titanic.

 

"Music?" Luke yells up at him. 

 

"Your choice!" 

 

Luke pops in a CD and puts on shuffle. 

 

"We're going Fall Out!"

 

"This is why you're the best!" Ashton yells. One of the old men getting his mail squawks at him to shut the hell up.

 

_When Rome's in ruins, we are the lions_

_free of the_ _coliseums_

_In poison places we are anti-venom_

_We're the beginning of the end_

 

"Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds. It's all over now before it has begun- we've already won!" Luke sings as he slaps the steering wheel to the beat.

 

Ashton takes over, still halfway out the sunroof, hands in the rocker position and ready to wake up any sucker who might be taking a nap.

 

"We are wild!

We are like young volcanoes!

We are wild!

Americana Exotica,

do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby, aaaaahh!"

 

He's wild are free and he feels like nothing can stop him, and for a time he lets the weight of his pain  

-

"Please don't die on me, angel." Luke cries as he carries Ashton’s limp body to the car. He tried to stitch up the wounds but there was _so much blood and he was just so cold_. He gets him in Old Betty Jo and speeds off towards the hospital.

Where did he go wrong?

He’d tried to so hard to help Ash beat the sickness, but now this was _actually happening_. Was his time spent worth it? He doesn’t recognize that the blaring noise in his head isn’t just his own internal screaming, but rather the policeman who’s driving side by side with him, signaling to pull over. Luke slams on the brakes and pulls off and he doesn’t have time for this so he gets out and meets the officer halfway screaming,

 **He is dying and I have to get him some help he can’t die not today**.

And the officer doesn’t know how to react other than to tell him to go, and that he’ll escort Luke to the ER. They make it past four red lights and almost get hit by a number of cars before rush him in. The officer flags down a nurse who flags down the head nurse who flags down the rest of her team and a doctor and all of a sudden they’re tearing Ash out of Luke’s arms and strapping him to the gurney and wheeling him through the double doors and out of sight. Luke is staring off into the distance, blood staining his hands and his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. There are some splatters from when he’d accidently slipped on the small red pool forming in the bathroom and dropped Ash.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, son.” The officer says, guiding him towards the bathroom. Luke tries to get the older man to leave him, to convince him he’s ok and can clean up by himself, but the policeman looks down and Luke notices for the first time that his hands are wavering horribly and he can barely grab hold of the faucet. He looks at himself in the mirror and _oh God that’s Ashton’s blood all over him that’s his angel’s blood and he’s covered in it._ The policeman is kind enough to help him when Luke throws up everything from what seems like the last day and a half and to help wipe the blood off in between.

 

“I’m so sorry. Thank you for doing this, you’re a saint.”

 

“Don’t thank me, son, you’re the one who just saved that boy from dying. And trust me- you’re nothing compared to the drunk kids I see on a regular basis. At least you’re thankful and will remember the next morning.” He laughs.

 

“I guess so…” Luke wipes away some of the tears. “I… just love him so much and I was trying to help him. I mean, he’s such a beautiful person and he hates himself so much and he’s so miserable I didn’t even know-”

 

“It isn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known.”

 

“I know… I just hope he’s ok.”

-

Ashton wakes up in the hospital and the incident comes back to him like a blackout after a long party. There are two sets of barbed wire-style stitches (the name he’d coined for no one in particular after his first trip to the Deathwatch sector) going down both his arms only slightly obscured by the gauze wrapping. They’ve put him in isolation, just him, his handcuff attached to the bed, and his IV and-

 

“Luke?” The Giant Golden Puppy is sitting in a chair pulled up against the bed and he’s got his face buried in his arms on top of Ash’s legs.

 

“Sweetheart, wake up.” He says, wiggling the leg Luke has most of his weight on. The poor boy is a sorry sight; Ash has no clue how long he’s been out or how long Luke has been waiting for him and how much sleep he’s lost. He was the one who drive him to the hospital, who contacted Ashton’s family. He’d been the one to take care of Ash this whole time and this how he was repaid?

He didn’t deserve this.

This was supposed to be Ashton’s purgatory and only his. Luke shakes his head to get the sleep out of his system and tackles Ashton in a bone-crushing hug.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Ashton says as he loops his free arm around his boyfriend. “You deserve so much better, not this.”

 

“Don’t say that- I’m so happy you made it through.”

 

“It’s only because you helped me.”

 

“You don’t even know how much you scared me, angel, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” He says, leaning back enough to look Ash in the eyes."Listen, whenever you need to talk, call me and I swear I won't be angry I just... It hurts me so much to see you hurting. But if you ever need me- if you ever need anything- just tell me and I'll be there."

-

Their third date night is in March, when the rains came back and Ashton found out that one of Luke’s secretly favorite things to do was sit under trees or other relatively dry and quiet places outdoors and listen to the sound of the thunderstorms. They’re huddled under the boathouse in the local wildlife reservation, listening to the sound of the rain hit the lake.

 

“Do you remember that time when you were at the house? That time when you found me bleeding and you stayed with me all night?” Ashton says, looping himself under Luke’s arm.

 

“The first one?”

 

"Yes.”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Well do you remember how you asked if I wanted to tell you what was wrong? And I said not yet?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’m ready now, if you want to hear.”

 

"I'm here for you."

 

"Let's see... how do I put this....." he's supposed to be the one who's good with words, but he can't seem to express himself. Or at least express himself to the extent he wants. Then it hits him. "The way I am is like an anchor. I am wonderful at being strong, but this strength is my great fault. I cannot move on my own and I am rigid in my views. I see only what others want me to see and I am dependent on others to help me. The one who pulls me out of the depths that are my mind is the one who shows me what I have missed while drowning in my own element. I can be beaten up and broken in so many ways, but no matter what I can still do my job as though nothing has happened. Above all, I am fantastic at pretending that I am strong, when really I am just drifting aimless and scared. It is in this way that I am the anchor."

-

They’re going for movie night at Ash’s, as customary. Luke is the only one with a car since Cal’s is in the shop and Michael has spent his life skateboarding to Calum’s. Ashton has hinted at the idea of using the car, but his dad shuts him down every time. It’s not going to be a thing, apparently, until Ashton has enough money to buy his own car. So basically he’s never getting a car in his life ever. It’s halloween-type weather so he plops down on the couch and starts sorting through every corner of the Netflix realm that has horror in it. (The goal is to scare the pants off of Michael and have another story to add to the rack.) (It's going to live in infamy for years, after they're all old and dad-like.)Ash has twenty minutes before they get here. Twenty minutes to clean up all the random crap on the floor and get the living room looking semi-decent. It's going to get ruined by the end of the night and he'll have to break out the vacuum, but that's just fine. They're weird, but they're his friends and he'd let them over whenever they needed.

-

It’s been about an hour since they said they were going to be here, and it’s not like Luke to be this late unless he’s plotting something utterly diabolical. While he’s washing the dishes, Ashton yells at his phone to auto-dial and lets it ring. There’s a click on the other end but he waits a second just to make sure Luke is listening.

 

“Hey where are you guys? I’m practically starving!” he chirps.

 

“Who is this?” Says a gruff male voice over the phone. Ashton stops in his tracks.

 

“Luke’s boyfriend…. who are you?” he says, the suspicion high in his voice.

 

“My name is Officer Hooper. We’ve been dispatched to highway 17 responding to a crash.”

 

“My god… is everyone ok?”

 

“There were three individuals in the vehicle at the time of the incident.” The way the man says it makes it all the more worse. His head spins and he feels drunk wobbling to the couch. “All three are being taken to the county hospital for surgery.”

 

“How did you get Luke’s phone?”

 

“We’ve salvaged just about everything. It was in the box in a bag and it was brought to my attention.”

 

“Ok.” Ashton says, even though it’s clearly anything but ok, but there’s nothing else that comes to mind that would be remotely appropriate. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.”

 

“Who was that, honey?” his mom calls from upstairs.

 

“Mom, I think I’m going to have to borrow the car.” he shouts, gathering his things and racing up the stairs.

-

He gets to the hospital and doesn't stop running until he gets to the rom.

 

“Oh, hey, Ash…. we weren’t expecting you to come see us so soon.” Michael said weakly.

 

“You guys are basically my only friends. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

 

“No, I mean it’s just…. nevermind. You beat our own families to the hospital at least. How have you been?” the pale boy turned slightly so he faced Ashton.

 

“You’re the ones who survived a freaking car accident! What happened? And where’s Luke?” In an instant the smiles ran away from their faces, replaced now by wide eyes and pursed lips.

 

“Ash, it’s….. there’s…” Calum started. His neck was secured in a brace and he couldn’t turn to look him in the eyes. According to one of the nurses Ash had seen walking out of the room, Calum had suffered a number of broken ribs which had splintered and dug into his lung.

 

“Something is wrong,” he said, “Something you’re not telling me. What is it? What could it possibly be?” Michael, suspended like a marionette with his broken arm and his broken leg in the air, looked at the ceiling and away from Ash, closing his eyes in pain.

 

“He’s gone.” He says, somber and ragged.

 

“What do you mean, gone? Where is he?”

 

“He isn’t coming back, Ash.” The sound of silence deafened him with each heartbeat, slower and slower.

 

“What?” He asked in a small voice.

 

“I… we… I mean it was just _so fast_ , Ash, you weren’t there!” Michael sputtered. He ran his hands through his hair, holding his head and curling into a ball. “One minute we were talking and the next he was gone and we didn’t even see it we were lost and it was dark and we _heard it_.”

 

“Calum, please-”

 

“18 wheeler truck, Ash, not a car.” Calum’s eyes are closed and he’s trembling like a house in a tornado. He hasn’t even shifted since they got to the house. “Driver sleepy… drifted into us.”

 

“I don’t understand, how-”

 

“Spun us.” Calum’s breathing pump suffered as he tried to force the words through. “Going around a right turn. Broke. Hard. Swung around in time. I was in passenger, Michael was behind me. Truck wasn’t going too fast- just tumbled. Knocked us out.”

 

“Ash, baby, he was so courageous. He put his life on the line. For us. He did something we could never repay him for and will never get the chance to.” His insides are doing somersaults and what's left of his mind cries,

 

_It's not fair._

_It's not fair._

_It's not fair._

**_NOT FAIR._ **

 

“I can’t…. I don’t know… how can I……”

 

“Don’t know, but we’ll be alright though.”

 

“Yeah, we’ll be alright though.” Michael echoed.

 

Ashton staggered out of the room. “I’m um… I think I’m gonna go home. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, guys.”

-

“He’s gonna die, Mike. We can’t stop him.” Calum wheezed. He kept his head perfectly straight as he sobbed.

 

“No!” Michael cried, tilting so he could face the window , “No, he said he would see us tomorrow. He’s going to be ok. He’s going to be ok.”

-

When he got home, the house was empty. His mother must’ve taken Harry and Lauren out, careful to shield them from their big brother’s exploding grief. He trudged up to his room, put down his things and started the shower.


	3. Act Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashton misses Luke, but he has Michael and Calum and they stick together pretty well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has the time, reading The Nowhere Man (something else old I wrote) would help explain the whole dreaming and waking thing. Also, they don't have wings because that was like... the waaaaaaaay early years before the desolates took over the earth and they were just dealing with disaster and all that fun stuff.

“Check his vitals!”

 

“Pulse is erratic, breathing obstructed.”

 

“Get the bag!”

 

“No, get the paddles!”

 

“Give me 500ml!”

 

“Stitches here!”

 

“Hold on, son, we’re gonna get you through this you’ll be just fine.”

His eyelids grow heavy as the anesthesia runs through him, sending him off to a dreamless sleep.

-

Ashton’s eyes shot open, ready to find the familiar blankness of the hospital walls but only finding the grey walls and dappled light of his bedroom.

 

“Oh thank god….just a dream.” He sighed.

And then it all came back to him. There were no more tears left to cry since the funeral. He’d been holed up in his room for about three days now, his mother coming by every once in a while to make sure he was still alive and to bring him food. That used to be Luke’s job.

_Used to be._

Ash put the covers back over to try and go back to sleep so he could dream that Luke was there. He could imagine the way it felt to have someone who loved him unconditionally and wholly, and who understood Ashton better than he did himself.

He remembers the days Luke told him it would be alright, that all he had to do was find something worth living for. He had decided that he would live for Luke because of the magic that boy had in him. But now he had lost the very reason to live, and where did that leave him?  
Empty.

But he had to keep fighting.

He couldn’t let Luke down even though he wasn’t right there beside him to tell reassure him that the bad times would pass and that even though it was really hard Ash could make it and everything would be ok.

“Ash, sweetheart, do you want to come with me to the store? You haven’t been outside in a while.” His mother comes around every few hours to ask if he wants to go outside or maybe to watch Lauren’s soccer game or just have dinner with the rest of the family, but only if he wants to because she isn’t going to force him. He refuses each time, or rather he doesn’t respond at all and waits until he hears her footsteps clip softly down the stairs. He sits in his misery as it curls around like a deathly embrace.

It’s so hard to shake it off; it’s practically part of him.

But he has to fight it.

For Luke’s sake.

 

“Sure, I’ll be there in a minute.” He throws on Luke’s sweater, one of the ones that still smell like him from the last time he was at the house, and shuts the door behind him.

-

The words rattled in his mind like a penny on the train tracks.

_Luke._

_Luke._

_Luke._

_Luke._

_Luke._

**_Luke_**.

He awoke the same way he came into this life; from the warmth of his dream to the cold world, screaming. The room was an antique musty white like an old quarantine bay with a wall covered in mechanical pieces and screens. A camera was trained on him and his image appeared in real time behind him. There were five crooked stitches spanning the left side of his head and a greying bandage keeping him together. Luke pushed himself onto his elbows and attempted to get out of the strange glass tub and onto the wide step ladder beside it, but only succeeded in crumpling into a mess on the tile floor. He struggled to stand and take in the alien surroundings. The camera followed his every moment, immortalizing his every expression. He walked over to the screen and looked at himself.

God he looked like hell. And what was up with his hair? What were these things sticking out of him?

 _Oh God no._ Luke slowly reached up to touch the space where his jaw met his neck and the cord buried in it. Using the screen like a mirror, he shakily touched the space between his collarbones. Then at the bottom of his sternum. His stomach. His arms.

_Oh God there are so many._

He gave it a sharp tug, but an excruciating pain shot through him and into his spine. He let out a short scream, then caught his breath. The cord was about four feet long; long enough for him to look at the strange keyboard-like panel at the top of his water tank. There were buttons in all sorts of shapes and colors, none of them marked but all of them looking important enough to not tamper with. Off to the side on a stool, there was a case with some medical supplies next to a large and very old looking book.

_Medical supplies!_

He riffled through the supplies. There were syringes and bandages everywhere, some small bottles of vaccines and things he couldn’t pronounce, a stethoscope, a pair of scissors, some-

_Scissors!!_

Luke grabbed the cord and held it taut with his hand a foot away from his neck. He closed his eyes and clipped the cord.

-

He looked like some sort of wasteland survivor; hair a mess, cords still attached and draped around him, the cord coming out of his stomach tied up to keep the cloth he’d salvaged on him like a toga. Luke stepped quietly around the giant building. He listened carefully for any sort of movement, any noise. He hadn’t seen or heard any trace of another living soul for the past… God, it must’ve been hours by now.

It was a ghost town, only here were thousands among thousands of people lining the walls, all in tanks and all just sort of floating there aimlessly, suspended. There were rooms prepared for living with no one to live in them, spaces that had collected dust over the years. It was like a never ending nightmare where he would explore each dark and musty floor, find no one, and go up a floor only to see and do the same exact thing.

He thought he was dreaming when he saw the light up ahead. Luke lowered himself to a crouch and peeked around the door. There were numerous mannequins surrounding the space, all fitted with metal parts and templates for armor of some sort, and a solitary person among them.

“Where am I and you who are you?” He asked, hugging the wall. He’d been so lost, wandering the labyrinth.

 

“Luke! Good to see you. You’re in Warehouse 12 in the East Row Division 3. That’s Australia, by the way- that’s what it’s called now. You’re one of the special ones. Oh, how lucky you are, to be among the Awakened! I’ll call a meeting so you can meet all of them. They’ll be so excited!”

 

“What?” he asked, breathless.

 

“The others! They’ll b-”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He said sternly, “Who are you?”

The atmosphere became tense, a silence in the dark that weighed more on the hearts of men than fear. At the sound of three claps, the rest of the lights came on exposing all four of my outstretched iridescent wings and I said to him,

“I am the Angel Maker.”

-

He took a step back and fell against the wall. I tried to help him up and walked towards him, but he scurried away on all fours.

 

“The Angel Maker?” He asked. “Am I in heaven?”

 

“Ha!” I laughed, “Far from it! You just got out of the Heaven Machine, sorry you, and now you’re with us. Welcome to the Jungle!”

 

“I’m so confused. The last thing I remember was Ash, Cal, and Mikey and….. I’m not sure…. What’s going on? Where are my friends… my family?”

 

“You’ve just woken up from the Machine is what’s going on. And in term of the others…. I guess it’s better to just not think about it. Well we’re your family now. But the ones who raised you are still asleep. They aren’t Awakened like us and they aren’t marked by the Machine to be. They've missed their time.”

 

“And you’re marked?” He asked. I nodded, putting away my things so I could show him the way of life for our kind.

 

“And I’m marked?” I nodded again. “How do you know who’s marked and who isn’t?”

 

“We don’t. The Machine tells us about how many it has lost and we come by and transport them out. Easy as that. Still doesn’t happen that often though….Sometimes they come in groups and sometimes they come all by themselves. That’s how we got you.” Pulling Luke to his feet, I dragged him behind me into B-5. “Took us nearly forever to get you- had to get to run down there from 3 and brought you all the way up from H-13 to F10. You tired most of the medics out, and they even flew!”

 

“Flew?!”

I popped my wings back out and flapped once just to get myself off the ground.

 

“These things aren’t just for decoration, you know. Some of us are too injured to fly, but most of us still can.”

 

“Impossible…”

 

“You have no idea.” I smiled, “And you haven’t even learned how to fly yet.”

Luke spun around, trying to look at his back. I pulled him to another room full of tanks so he could use them as a reflective surface. He screamed as the eggshell-patterned wings, still condensed like a backpack below his shoulder blades, twitched furiously. I started to unfurl them, and in an instant they came undone. They were a beautiful light blue with soft silver highlights running through them, long and thin like a glider. He was perfect.

“Congrats- you’ve gotten over one of the biggest hurdles. You’re a true angel now.”

-

“Who are they, those people you were talking about before?” I asked.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Ash, Cal, Mikey?”

 

“Oh, they’re just my friends. Except Ash. He was special. I loved him. I love him.” He gave a great sigh. "I wish I could just see him again, y'know? Just one more time..." 

 

Not knowing what to say, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

-

Explaining everything to him took longer than I thought it would. Meeting my sister leaders-the Templar Sun, the Dream Weaver, and the Good Shepherd- almost made him pass out. I remember when Tina, the Dream Weaver, took him to the distribution tanks……Luke is just so inquisitive on post-Apocalypse mechanics she had a ball.

 

“So this…. Machine…. What does it do? How does it work?” he asked as I showed him how the stasis chambers worked autonomously.

 

“I’ll just tell you the story of the Mechanical Gods. It’s easier.” I sat him down in one of the living room sectors and one of the hundreds of service robots offered him food. “If you couldn’t tell, you’re basically in an upside down skyscraper. The floors 12 and on are for storing the sleeping and 10 and 11 are the whole Machine. Many years ago, the earth was going to waste. We had polluted it so much that we could no longer provide for everyone. The governments got together and decided that there was no other alternative than to go underground and wait for the earth to recover. Scores of scientists and engineers were assigned with the creation of a plan to build underground citadels. It took them a while, but eventually Warehouse 1 Sector 1 was built and people began evacuating to them. By now, disease had ravaged the land, dwindling our numbers. The first facilities are still filled with the sleeping bodies of people who went to Heaven first. That was how it began. The rest of the facilities came and went and they all filled with desperate people trying to survive. Eventually, everyone who could afford cryogenic sleep were placed in their tanks while everyone above got killed by the disasters and the mutated animals.”

 

“Aren’t there a limited number of people? Why aren’t we extinct? And since when do we have wings?”

 

“The Machine provides all. When the old souls die, they are sent to the Men of Fire for cremation. Heaven extracts the eggs and sperm of the sleeping and creates children in new tanks. Sometimes when people aren’t dying as fast as the new souls are being made, the machine will make an avatar until it’s ready. It’s complicated- you would be better off asking one of the medics. And we’ve always had wings. Centuries of actively fighting with the desolate made us what we are today. The Machine was designed to not have that so the amount of programmable world necessary was limited. My secret theory though is that the flying programmer got killed or eaten or something before he could finish. That’s probably why air and space travel still works, but not flying. But that's a story for another time.”

 

“None of that was real? So if my whole life was a lie, then what did I just witness?”

 

“You have seen the world as it used to be. The Heaven Machine was made as a way for life to continue unaltered as it had for generation upon generation. We grew soft; no one I’ve met had been able to shoot a rifle or kill a man. That is the world that Heaven is, and it is no Jungle. We were not ready accept the consequences for what we as a people had done.”

 

“Your logic is flawed. It put no faith in humanity- only in your technologies. How long have you been here?”

 

“Many a year. I was awoken before my body was sped up to stasis time. The medics keep track of the growth hormones we keep in the stasis chambers to get everyone to around 18 to 21, the prime of life. We try to get there, at least. I was awoken too early, so my body is not like the others'. I am supposed to be 56, though.”

 

“Then time does not pass here?”

 

“Of course it does- the time factor for the Sleeping is accelerated- ours here is slowed. We would live for centuries. We have the potential to make it to upwards of 200 of your years. My teacher reigned sovereign until her untimely death at 133.”

 

“I don’t know, it just…. You’ve put so much trust into something without compassion- it’s a giant hunk of metal and you treat it like a god!”

 

“The Machine controls all!” I snapped back. “We are given higher knowledge to help it and that is what makes it alive. It is the reason any of us survived the Fall!”

 

“We don’t belong in there! We should be waking people up, not keeping them asleep forever!”

 

“Times are hard for dreamers but they are certainly no better out here! The world doesn’t exist anymore! There is Heaven and there is the Jungle and either way, there will be unpleasantries and that is what concludes our existence.”

 

“You’re wrong. There has to be a way. There’s always a way.” Luke stomped away before I could tell him that sometimes, the truth hurt and that more often than not the truth stood alone.

-

He didn’t see me for a few days, but my engineers would report seeing him wandering around. Luke hasn’t been assigned to one of our four groups so he has no obligations and basically unlimited time. Sometimes he would retire to his room and weep or sit silently in thought. But he came to his senses, I suppose, and returned to continue his lessons. This run through of systems maintenance had much less talking involved- on his part at least- and he seemed less focused. I decided to take him down to the viewing room since it was the least strenuous activity.

 

“This is the place where we check on the condition of the surface. It gives us an accurate reading on desolate occupancy and natural repair.”

 

“Is it like an overgrown forest up there?”

 

“Not quite… more like a barren charred wasteland. It’s a desert out in Warehouse 56 North Row Division 5-Eurpoe, that is- and as far as I know, most of Division 2 is underwater. We haven’t heard anything from Division 6 and the last time their feeds were up, they were experiencing major electrical storms as well as flooding, so probability says that they’re gone… it varies, really.” I turned down another of the Sleeping-lined halls at a brisk pace. “It’s relaxing and pretty fun in my opinion. It’s the only place to view the sky and the sun in real time. You can see everything.”

The room was empty, surprisingly, and I switched on the live feed. There were 25 cameras to choose from, so I let him pick.

 

“What would you like to look at today?” I turned to show him the screen but- :”Luke? Luke, where in-“

I flew down the hall and through all the doors. He couldn’t have been that far- I’d just been talking to him! And he didn’t know his way around… He could be anywhere!

 

“Luke!” I shouted louder, “Luke, where are you?” One corridor then another. Past some engineers and medics and one stray champion until finally I found him kneeling, facing the wall, and staring off into space. He sat with his legs turned outward at an awkward angle like he’d just crumpled in place.

 

“Phew… there you are! I was scared for a moment… Thought I’d lost you. Come on- the projection room is waiting.” I was met with no response, so I bent down to talk to him more privately.

Tears streamed down his face in fine lines which shimmered under the neon blue glow of the room. They drip-dropped onto the cold stone tiles into a puddle around his knees. I’m not even sure he knew he was crying.

 

“Luke….” I put my hand on his back and sat beside him. There was no one in the hall; just me, him, and the Sleeping. 

_Oh._

 

“Is this him?”

 

“Yeah. That’s Ash.”

-

The Dream Weaver, a jolly woman at a towering 6 feet tall, sauntered into the room and sat down at my work bench. I’d been holed up trying to fix one of the Medics who’d been attacked by a desolate with scavenging for herbs and hadn’t seen Luke since his big discovery. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen much of anything since then…

 

“You got unlucky, Angel Maker- your little guy there is one of Templar’s boys. He’s got potential, but not as an engineer. Are you gonna tell him or should I?”

 

“When does she need him by?” I said without looking up from my microscope. Luke wasn’t going to like this, moving from one thing to the next so quickly after experiencing such a great loss, but that was the way things went around here. When we lost angels we had totems erected and a momentary blessing, but beyond that there wasn’t any mourning. There was simply no time.

 

“You know her- always needing more champions to throw into the fray.”

 

“Tell her to wait. He doesn’t know the world the way she does. He’s never even held a weapon!” A thought came into my mind. “Have her train him instead of sending him in blind. Have her do it here. He’ll be able to see Ashton still so he’ll be more stable. It’s a win-win for all of us.”

 

“She won’t listen.” She sing-songed back to me.

 

“Then tell her to come to the lab and I’ll talk to her myself.”

-

“Charlie, this isn’t your department! I have jurisdiction!” She cried, angry. The desolate had laid low for some time now which had put the Templar Sun on high alert. Paranoid that they would destroy the Warehouse, she gathered her champions in preparation for what could be their final battle. On the upper floors and topside they trained and simulated and did whatever it was those warriors did. She wanted to have everyone in tip-top shape, and that meant giving Luke a crash course in the art of killing.

 

“Marilyn, he isn’t ready.” I said sternly. “You have to give him time. He’s not like the others.”

 

“We have no time and you know it! The desolate are many and they’re getting smarter every day. Just because we killed a hive that doesn’t mean we can let out guard down.”

 

“Let him exist another week, that’s all I’m asking. He’ll be ready then. I’m sure of it. I’ll owe you a favor- I’ll take that hit.”

 

“Bargaining, already? This is so unlike you…. Fine. You have your week. But I’m taking him one way or another.” The other angel said. She left in a flash of wings and a resigned huff. I had bought Luke some time, but he would have to start spending less time around Ashton and get his mind into focus. The desolate would have no mercy once he got out there and Marilyn would have even less.

-

Mal decides to rear his ugly head around week four. It’s hard to tell what day it is when all the nights are restless and all the days melt together. Calum is still in the hospital because of his neck brace, but Michael has just gotten out and is in a wheelchair. He and Ashton stick together as emotional support, never straying far. Michael relies on him for just about everything from wheeling him around school to helping him visit Calum in the hospital and a ton of other things that are difficult because of the one-arm-one-leg issue. Ashton finds himself using Michael as a crutch of his own, being pulled out of his trance when he sees something that reminds him of Luke. Sometimes, he’ll hear the echoes of encouragement Luke used to tell him and he’ll find the strength to go on. Other days, it’s quiet in his head and it hurts just to get up in the morning. Mal doesn’t help when he approaches Ashton. His eyes are full of something resembling pity but neither of the boys have any tolerance for him.

 

“What do you want?” Michael snaps the second Mal gets within fifteen feet of them. He’s already wheeled himself in front of the both of them.

 

“Just wanted to say sorry about what happened.”

 

“Aren’t you a little late for that?” He growls. Ashton keeps his head down, hoping that he can get by without being called out.

 

“If you don’t want my apologies, I’m fine with that. How about it, Ash?” He shrinks back and changes where he’s looking from Michael’s knees to the leg of a table off to the far left. The ends of the Luke’s long sweater curl their way around his hands like paws.

 

“Get out of here, Mal.” Michael says without missing a beat. He’s covering for Ash and they all know it. The two of them make a break for it and Ashton drops Michael at his house before trudging back home. He pulls the Little box of Painful Things out from its hiding place and gets to work. When he's done bandaging himself up, he curls in a ball and wishes that he were in the grave beside Luke.

-

I kept him as long as I could, but eventually she found us and took Luke to the training grounds. I saw Luke again and since that day, he’s changed. No more is the sympathetic hero of that one boy’s reality optimistic in his disposition, but rather he has adopted the Templar Sun’s tendency to assess things only for their personal benefit. It’s something only she can do since the champions are more… _self-serving_. Tina, Janice, and I exist to serve others exclusively, but I think the leader of champions has taken her role too far. She has no regard for anyone outside of her army when they don’t help her win wars.

He still spends all of his free time sitting next to Ashton’s tank, reclining it so he can hold hands or kiss the other boy’s cheek. One day I caught him sitting there and he seemed ashamed, so I stood beside him and spoke.

 

“If it makes you feel any better, he can hear you.” I said. “He’ll think it’s only his own mind making up what he thinks you would say, but he can still hear you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Like I said, he won’t believe what you say to him and he’ll probably block you out after if you do it now, while he’s in class. It would be advisable to wait until his night cycle, when he’s in his second layer of dreams. He’ll accept that you’re speaking to him if he’s slipped further. But yes- he can still hear you when you speak.”

He nodded and tried to think of something to say now that he knew his words meant something more.

 

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

 

“Hold on a second,” he caught my arm. “I meant to ask- what are these buttons for?” He pointed to a few square buttons and the four arrows below a tiny screen.

 

“Nothing much. Those are for Critical Choices and dream screenings. We don’t interfere with that since it’s technically messing with free will, and that’s one of the big laws of this place. Sometimes questions or lists of options will come up and while the person is deciding, angels out here can influence them by choosing which one they think is best. Whatever we pick is almost always what that person does, so like I said- don’t mess with it.”

 

“Someone else controls what we do?” He murmured.

 

“No, but we have the tools to.” Seemingly in time with my speech, a message appeared on Ashton’s screen which read ‘Cut wings?” with the option of ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I stared at it for a moment and Luke went to push a button since he somehow understood what was going on. Before he could send his answer, the ‘yes’ option flickered green and the screen went blank again. “Luke, you shouldn’t be around here if you’re going to be tempted to break protocol. It’s difficult being here without him, but there are certain rules that are here for a reason and one of the undisputed ones is ‘don’t tamper with the sleeping’.”

 

“Yeah, sure…” he said not really meaning it. I went back to my room fearful of what the littlest angel might do with his new knowledge. There were so many things he didn’t even know yet, bigger things, which would change him even more. I didn’t want to be the one to tell him, but I knew that in all probability, it would be me.

-

Ashton awoke in a surreal field of flowers billowing in the wind. Behind him there was an old tire swing and a creek that he knew the pattern of without having to turn around. This was a memory of what once was; happiness. A little bit away he can see someone sitting facing away from him, watching the clouds from atop a hill. He steps barefoot through the soft green summer grass and sits down.

 

“Luke?”

 

“Isn’t it lovely, angel? We really lucked out with the weather.” The Giant Golden Puppy has a satisfied smile as he motions for Ash to come, sit on the red and white checkered picnic mat. He has a couple of things but instead of eating, Ashton tackles Luke and just holds him so that he doesn’t slip away.

 

“I miss you so much.” He cries into Luke’s shoulder. He feels his arms come around him, holding him the same way he always had.

 

“I know, sweetheart, but I’m right here.”

 

“But-“ Luke pushes Ashton so his hands are on Ash’s shoulders and he’s looking him right in those crystalline blue eyes of his.

 

“Listen to me- I know that things are really hard for you, and that they’ve gotten harder. But I want you to know how proud I am of you. You’ve done so well!” Ash smiles sheepishly and sniffs away the tears on the edges of his eyes. “I know things are tough, but just remember that I’m always here for you, ok? It may not look like it, but I’ll always be right by your side. If you ever need something, if you ever need anything at all, close your eyes and I’ll come and get you.” At the edge of the open fields, the sun is dipping below its peak and the shadows are starting to rush towards them.

 

“It’s time, love.” Luke says, and now they’re standing in the shadows and he can’t see more than ten feet around him.

 

“No! Luke, I can’t lose you. Not again…”

 

“You aren’t losing me- we’re just saying goodbye for a little while. I’m not going to leave you. Just remember what I said, ok?”

Ashton feels himself starting to fall, to wake up from the dream.

 

“Ok.”

 

“Ok. Love, you, angel. Never forget that.”

Ashton comes to full consciousness in the upright position. He looks around for Luke in the darkness, but then remembers that oh, this wasn’t real and oh, Luke isn’t actually next to him. The sun isn’t quite rising yet, so Ashton pulls the covers back over and prays that his next dream will have Luke in it also.

-

“Is it physically impossible to wake up someone who’s sleeping or is it just something you guy don’t do?” He asked.

I had a feeling it would come to this. Desperation is a powerful thing, but unlike treachery, I can see where it goes.

 

“Luke, no.”

 

“What?”

 

“No one is waking anyone up unless it’s the Machine. Don’t even think about trying to wake up Ashton.”

 

“But what if he’s-“

 

“NO.” I said through the warp box sewn into my throat. “You try to pull a stunt like that you could kill him and then you’d be broken beyond our dimension. Look, Luke, you and Ashton had something so unique, so special. Hold onto that. You were two fairytale creatures made to love one another. It is even rarer that you found your mate. A lot of us never get that chance. Everyone wants what you two had.”

 

“No, no they don’t. Not if it means this.”

-

His school attendence record is looking a more like a piece of swiss cheese, but after a lengthy discussion with his guidance counselor and the principal, he can still graduate. Ashton feels a sort of pride that he never thought he’d get from school. Sure, he’s still distraught over the loss of the only person he’d ever loved and his mind comes back to missing Luke whenever he isn’t doing something that actually requires brain cells, but he feels like he’s kept his end of their little bargain- he’s stayed strong and found something to live for. He lives for Luke’s memory, to make him proud even though he isn’t right there beside him, even though sometimes he swears he can feel Luke’s larger, callous-rough hands intertwined with his.

Calum got out of the hospital last Tuesday, but he needs a ton of physical therapy because all of the doctors and the fancy people in white coats with titles too obscure to try to pronounce are worried he’s going to throw his back and in the process break his back and become paraplegic. Michael skipped one day just to be with his boyfriend, leaving Ashton all alone to fend for himself at school. Everyone who looks at him immediately looks away, acknowledging what happened to him almost seven weeks ago but still devoid of any consoling words. On good days, he can usually walk by all of them with eyes trained forward and chin parallel to the floor. On bad days he counts tiles on the floor between his locker and different classes.

But he’s getting better, he supposes. His parents don’t know about the late night (and sometimes mid-afternoon) slashing sessions he has all over his arms and across his body, but they found a good psychologist for him to see weekly, and that’s been a tremendous help. Ms. Peazer knows all of his problems and can give him advice that actually carries some weight with it. She’s been drawing out his feelings about Luke, but it hurts so much that they often has to end the session early because he’s so disturbed by the night of the crash. It’s going to take months and years of therapy sessions like this before he can get back to something more normal, but more forward slowly is still moving forward. Luke would be proud of him if he could see him now.

-

He approached me, covered in the blood of desolates, with the look that meant ‘help me convince myself that I’m not horrible’. He sat down at my bench and began pouring his heart out. Seeing as there was no stopping him, I let him ramble uninterrupted.

 

“I feel so guilty for leaving him there. There’s so much I wish I could do and despite being given this ‘higher knowledge’ I feel even less helpful. And then when I go fulfill my other obligations, I feel like I’m betraying him since I’m not by his side. Honestly he’s what keeps me going. I remember almost everything that I with him. Everything we sang, everything we did, everywhere we went… there are some things that just bring all the memories flooding back like an incoming tide. But there’s nothing I can do. It’s impossible to do anything without that stupid machine….”

 

“Factually speaking, you can’t move him. Only the machine can do it. Safely, that is. But there is another way, sort of….” I said without thinking. Immediately he was on his feet and in my face. It was then I knew I had made a mistake. “What?! You knew all this time?! Why didn’t you say anything before?!”

 

“You weren’t ready! I knew that if I told you, you would try it without second thought! You need to think about this! I’m not even sure you’re ready now!” “Tell me what it is!” “Luke, thinks about what-“

 

“Dammit, Charlie!”

 

“Calm down and sit down!” I said in a warp tone, pushing him away to get some distance. “Ok… here's how this works....the Machine cannot take out people while they are active in the other world. They cannot just disappear in broad daylight- we’d have problems for decades. Believe me, it’s happened before and that alien abduction thing was really a mess to watch unravel. In order for someone to wake up-- and keep in mind that not everyone wakes up here—that person must be inactive from that world. They have to die. So if you wanted to get him here….”

 

“I would have to kill him.” Luke says, crumpling as the weight of my words fell upon his shoulders.

 

“Yes.” I sighed, “But remember- even so there would not be a 100% guarantee that he would end up here. To keep him in the false world for his whole life span, safety guaranteed, or to wake him up early by convincing him to kill himself with the chance of him being one of the angels. The choice is yours.”


	4. Finale, Version 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is it. I have two endings and it's been a very VERY long time.

Ashton can barely breathe, the tumor in his brain wreaking havoc on all of his systems. It’s been about three years since his diagnosis; a year since the doctors told him to go home and spend time with the people he loved. He’s been on death watch for weeks now, but his time has come.

 

He will die today, but he is ready.

-

He wakes up gasping for air, slams his head on the glass, then blacks out.

-

_Ash._

_Ash._

_Ash._

_Ash._

_Ash._

_Ash._

**ASH.**

The startled feeling isn’t as powerful this time; more of a nuisance than anything. He’s laying flat on his back on a metal table with nothing but a thin sheet over him. The walls are an ugly sort of gray and the ceiling is a chipped popcorn paint from tens of hundreds of years ago. It’s an absolute wreck wherever ‘here’ is. What’s he doing here anyway?

 

“I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years, I’ll love you for a thousand more. All along I believed time would find you, time has brought your heart to me- I will love you for a thousand years, I’ll love you for a thousand more.” The melodious voice wavers in and out as he struggles to stand. He has to know where it’s coming from- it hurts in his soul not to.

 

The hallways are long and minimally lighted. He’s only seen shadows of people passing in other corridors.

 

“Luke?” He asks in a small voice, afraid that if the other boy turns around the fantasy will shatter. Before he can move on with his ridiculous quest, the stranger turns to face him.

But there he is. He’s gorgeous- more gorgeous than he remembers. He doesn’t look like he’s aged a day…

 

“Ash…” Luke starts. The tears are brimming over

 

They lay together in a heap of limbs and tears in the middle of the bay.

-

“Will you love me until the end of times?’ Ashton said opening his wings to the sunset.

 

Luke lets out a sigh, partially saddened by what he had caused but then again relieved that Ashton had made it into the real world. This is where they belonged- not in a broken world where they didn’t fit in. If he had the choice to do it again, he would have.

 

“Forever, my angel.”


	5. Finale, Version 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I would finish this one day. It feels good.

There comes a time when the fighting is done and there is nothing more he can do. Surrender is inevitable and the loss is more of a relief than a tragedy. He’s come to the end, the final stand.

 

It was so hard, those years of waiting. He tried and he tried and he drew butterfly after butterfly but each one died and every time they did, Ashton died on the inside too. The soothing words Luke would whisper him over the phone or into his hair were just a memory; buried with the boy who had gone too soon and whom he couldn’t move past. As his vision blurs into a mess of meaningless colors, something comes through. He’s in some sort of dark room with the light of static-filled TV screens beaming on him. He’s in some sort of tank, and there’s someone next to him he----

 

“Luke….?’

 

“Ash!” And like that, he scrambles out of whatever contraption he’s in into the other boy’s arms.

 

“I’m so sorry, Luke, I failed the challenge. I just couldn’t do it anymore.” He sobs.

 

“No, no, it’s ok. You did so well! I’m so proud of you, Ash. I can’t imagine what it was like, but you’re here, and that means something.”

 

“Where are we?”

 

“This is a facility running a thing called the Heaven Machine. Come on- I’ll show you around.”

-

They come barging into my workspace, the damn hooligans.

 

“Mom!!! Mom!! Ash woke up! You were right!”

 

“Of course I was.” I put my hand out the shorter boy. “Hi there, I’m-”

 

“That’s the Angel Maker. No one likes her.”

 

“Quite rude, considering I’m your superior.” I scoffed.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, miss.” He says with a slight bow. Ash wearing Luke’s shirt and his hair is still wet. Luke must have been too excited to care about trivial things like his own comfort. I can only imagine his excitement.

 

“He called me ‘miss’. I like him more than I like you. Go away and let me have him.”

 

“Not a chance, Lordess.”

-

“Are you serious.” I say bluntly. Lined up before me are four complete idiots wielding deadly weapons asking permission to go to battle in the Jungle. They’re like little kids on Christmas morning trying to wake up the parents at 6:17 am. The little one with colorful hair looks like he's trying to bore holes in my face from how hard he's staring, and the dark-skinned one isn't helping the situation either.

I’m getting too old for this.

 

“Yes! We’ve trained together, and you’ve seen me and Ash in action together! Cal and Mikey will be up to speed in no time. We can teach them how to kill Desolates and use their weapons _and have fun_ all at the same time! It’s perfect!!.” Luke beams.

 

“I trust that you and Ash can take on anything any day, but I’m not going to risk losing two inexperienced angels whom I haven’t personally examined.” I state straight from the Code.

 

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase.” They whine simultaneously. After a couple seconds they start whining in harmony and my headache gets that much worse.

 

“Ok! Ok! Fine!” I bark, “But only a small mission and you have to check in with me with which task you want before deployment _and_ you have to get Marilyn to call me and verify your mission, is that fucking clear?” They all start hugging like some weird cult and run off with Michael shouting a quick ‘Thanks Mom!’ as he heads for the elevator to Ground Level.

-

“Are you guys ready?” Luke asks, nervous energy piling up in his stomach. He spins his axe by his side, ready to swing into action.

 

“Oh yeah.” Michael holds his scythe like a guitar with the back of the blade in his right hand and the staff in his left.

 

Ashton gets ready to run out with his curved daggers into the screaming wild with Calum’s spinning whip blade pooled around their feet.

  

The elevator peaks above the ground level and the dim light of the evening hits them. The four angels jump out onto the landing pad at the base of the facility, wings outstretched and ready to fight. They each launch one after the other, following Luke like they always have, off into the sunset.


End file.
